he forest fields," the eagle said.

The boy was thinking of the lowly cabins and the hedged-in farms down in
Skane when he exclaimed:

"Why, here the peasants live in real manors. It looks as if it might be
worth one's while to work in the forest!"

The eagle had intended to travel straight north, but when he had flown
out over the river he understood that the boy wondered who handled the
timber after it was stacked on the river bank.

The boy recollected how careful they had been at home never to let a
grain be wasted, while here were great rafts of logs floating down the
river, uncared for. He could not believe that more than half of the logs
ever reached their destination. Many were floating in midstream, and for
them all went smoothly; others moved close to the shore, bumping against
points of land, and some were left behind in the still waters of the
creeks. On the lakes there were so many logs that they covered the
entire surface of the water. These appeared to be lodged for an
indefinite period. At the bridges they stuck; in the falls they were
bunched, then they were pyramided and broken in two; afterward, in the
rapids, they were blocked by the stones and massed into great heaps.

"I wonder how long it takes for the logs to get to the mill?" said the
boy.

The eagle continued his slow flight down River Ljungen. Over many places
he paused in the air on outspread wings, that the boy might see how this
kind of harvest work was done.

Presently they came to a place where the loggers were at work. The eagle
marked that the boy wondered what they were doing.

"They are the ones who take care of all the belated harvest," the eagle
said.

The boy remembered the perfect ease with which his people at home had
driven their grain to the mill. Here the men ran alongside the shores
with long boat-hooks, and with toil and effort urged the logs along.
They waded out in the river and were soaked from top to toe. They jumped
from stone to stone far out into the rapids, and they tramped on the
rolling log heaps as calmly as though they were on flat ground. They
were daring and resolute men.

"As I watch this, I'm reminded of the iron-moulders in the mining
districts, who juggle with fire as if it were perfectly harmless,"
remarked the boy. "These loggers play with water as if they were its
masters. They seem to have subjugated it so that it dare not harm them."

Gradually they neared the mouth of the river, and Bothn